


Give My Regards to Pendersleigh

by The_Snarkivist



Category: Maurice (1987), Torchwood
Genre: Edwardian AU or is it?, Everybody Lives, Fix-It, Happy Ending, M/M, canon typical eye rolling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28560858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Snarkivist/pseuds/The_Snarkivist
Summary: He had been the under-gamekeeper at Pendersleigh for some time now. It was a medium-sized house with a staff of about six. The Durhams were only moderately wealthy by rich people standards, but their “modest” home was five times as large as anything Ianto had ever lived in, back in Cardiff.He couldn't really remember what it was about gamekeeping that had made him choose this job, though really, what other options did he have? He wasn't about to die in a coal mine. He couldn't even remember how long he had been at Pendersleigh. Day in and day out despising his employers made the days blend together.************Torchwood/Maurice mash-up - or is it?
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 8
Kudos: 13





	Give My Regards to Pendersleigh

**Author's Note:**

> I have liberally used quotes from the film Maurice throughout. It would have been too distracting to put them all in italics. The quotes from Torchwood are in italics. 
> 
> I am incredibly indebted to st_mick for very excellent advice when I was coming up with the plot for this and amazing beta-ing. All the mistakes are mine not hers. Thank you!!!!

Ianto Jones was cleaning the guns in the supply room. He had no idea how these toffs continually got them so dirty. They had absolutely no respect for their tools. He should know because the Durhams certainly viewed him as nothing more than a tool and they treated him with utter disregard if they noticed him at all. Half the time they couldn't remember his name, and the other half they called him Scudder which had been the name of the last under-gamekeeper, who Simcox, the butler, told him had vanished mysteriously. 

One day he had been roaming the grounds looking for rabbits when Lady Durham called him over, “Oh, I say! What’s your name? Could you post this letter for me?” 

“It’s Jones, ma’am, Ianto Jones.” 

She had nodded disinterestedly and shoved a letter at him before turning on her heel and hurrying to the house. Ianto rolled his eyes and stole a sandwich from the plate on the garden table she had been sitting at.

He had been the under-gamekeeper at Pendersleigh for some time now. It was a medium-sized house with a staff of about six. The Durhams were only moderately wealthy by rich people standards, but their “modest” home was five times as large as anything Ianto had ever lived in, back in Cardiff. 

He couldn't really remember what it was about gamekeeping that had made him choose this job, though really, what other options did he have? He wasn't about to die in a coal mine. He couldn't even remember how long he had been at Pendersleigh. Day in and day out despising his employers made the days blend together. 

As he was just finishing the guns, Simcox entered. 

“Jones," he said roughly, "the young master Durham has a guest coming, in a few days. We'll most likely be busy. Lord Durham does like to show off all his pheasants. Thinks a bunch of birds makes him all manly, like."

Ianto shrugged. He felt like Simcox was always trying to catch him bad mouthing their employer. He might have hated his job but he wasn't about to throw it away by playing into the hands of a scheming fellow servant 

"Man name of Maurice Hall. He's a queer sort, if you take my meaning. Bit too close to our Clive back at Cambridge, is what they say. Both of them is queer sorts. Old master Durham would be spinning in his grave if he knew what his pansy son was getting up to."

Ianto ignored Simcox and continued cleaning the weapons.

"Still, them lot are allowed to get up to whatever they like, I guess. Rotten scoundrels they are. So you’ll be waiting on their pleasure, in terms of hunting.”

Ianto nodded.

****************************

Ianto saw this contentious house guest for the first time, a few days later. Maurice had arrived when Ianto was hunting in the back fields. So he did not see him until the next morning. Ianto was flirting with and teasing Milly the maid in the drawing room as she tried to clear up the plates from breakfast. They were tussling and giggling, when all of a sudden Ianto felt eyes on him. 

He looked up and almost gasped. Standing in the hallway was the most gorgeous gentleman he had seen in his life. The man had close cropped brown hair, a strong, manly cleft chin, and eyes the colour of the sky on a cloudless summer day. Ianto stopped chasing Milly and stood and stared. He felt a tightening in his pants. 

Ianto was not very discriminating about who he was attracted to. He was quite popular with the girls in the village near Pendersleigh. But he was not averse to taking a tumble in the barns with a working class man. His general disdain for the toffs that surrounded him generally kept him from viewing them as sexual objects. But this man. This man was different. Ianto would have sunk to his knees and taken the man in his mouth right there in the drawing room. Never had a gentleman stirred his lust like this man was doing. 

But to be fair, the man was looking back with an equally hungry look. Those blue eyes were full of lust and mischief. Just looking, Ianto could see all the perverted things the man wanted to do to him. Things he would enthusiastically consent to and indeed, beg for.

“Maury! Do come to the music room - Anne wants to show you something.” Clive Durham’s obnoxious voice startled the man out of his reverie. He winked at Ianto and then rushed off to the music room. 

*************************

Ianto saw Maurice Hall again the next day, when the gentlemen wanted to go shooting. Clive had abandoned his guests to go canvassing. Ianto thought that very much in line with what he thought about the drippy Lord. He had this gorgeous man staying at his house and he ignored him to glad hand villagers. 

He suspected, based on the way Durham dispatched Maurice to go hunting with the tiresome Archie, that whatever had been between the two men was over. He guessed Clive ended it when he married. That was another point against his employer. He had this perfect specimen of maleness, who smelled irresistible, and gave him over for… Anne? 

The man, surprisingly, turned out to be American. Or at least that’s what his accent suggested. However, no one around Pendersleigh seemed to remark upon it. That was surprising given the snobiness of the Durhams. Surely someone would have been sniffy about his origins from the “inferior colonies”. But even Simcox didn’t mention it. 

Ianto enjoyed watching the men shoot. He tried to tune out the inane prattling of Archie and focus on Hall’s ass, which was quite spectacular. Finally, the weather started to close in so Ianto said, “Will you gentlemen wish to continue shooting? The mist's coming down.”

“I suppose he thinks that’s our fault” sniffed Archie. Ianto looked away and rolled his eyes. 

As they walked back to the house he heard Hall say to Archie that it was his birthday. It was just typical of that old hosebag Clive not to mention it or make a big deal. He seemed just the type who would abandon his ex-lover with his sister’s boring fiance in order to politic. Ianto hated Clive even more than he had a few days before. 

As the men dropped their guns off in the supply room, Simcox brought a telegram for Maurice. Archie - who was as stupid as he was boring - assumed it was from Clive. But Ianto could see it was not a happy birthday message from the asshole ex. Hall looked concerned. 

“Happy birthday, sir!” Ianto called as Hall was about to depart. 

Hall turned and gave him a look. It was a question, and it was searching. As if he was trying to suss something out about Ianto. Ianto blushed and looked away.

When he looked back Mr. Hall’s face was a mask. He nodded at Ianto and turned on his heel and left. 

*************************

“Oh! That guest of the Master Durham is a right looker!” Milly enthused that evening. 

Ianto said nothing. He liked Milly well enough but he didn’t trust her enough to admit to having had in the past, and wanting to have in the future, relations with men.

“I can see why Durham went for him!” 

“Oh Milly, you don’t know that. It’s just gossip.” 

“I do! I saw it with my own eyes. Mr. Hall came up here to visit when they had just finished at Cambridge. Thick as thieves. Saw them getting close in the Blue Room.” 

Ianto was trying his hardest not to picture Hall and Clive kissing. 

“I have a question,” he said, trying to distract himself. “His family seems to be from here, but why does he sound American?” 

The servant’s bell rang. 

“American? Ianto Jones, have you ever met an American? They don’t sound at all like Mr. Hall. American! Honestly!” 

Ianto was going to question what she meant, but the servant’s bell rang again. 

“I better go. I’m going to get attitude about them ringing that blasted bell twice, as it is!” Milly rushed off. 

Ianto sauntered behind her. He guessed it was about the roof in the music room, which was chronically leaking. No doubt they would expect him to move the heavy pianoforte all by himself. 

*******************

“Ah, Scu… er Jones.” the ridiculously pompous Durham sneered. “Shift the piano, would you, and, um, take up the carpet. Tomorrow you'd better go up and attack that roof again. Honestly, we just had it repaired. What is the state of England coming to, if you can’t hire decent workers to do a simple job?” Durham whined.

Ianto repressed an eye roll and pushed up his shirtsleeves and walked towards the pianoforte. Durham was babbling about being carried away on flood tides or something. Ianto ignored him and tried to think of a way to shift the infernal instrument by himself. 

Suddenly he noticed a striking figure in his peripheral vision. 

“Oh, Mr. Hall, there’s no need for you to help. You’re a guest.” 

“Oh, I need the exercise!” Hall grinned, “Too much of Cook’s bumbleberry pie at dinner, don’t you know.” 

He immediately stood in the right place and the heavy pianoforte was moved with minimal effort on either of their parts. 

“Honestly, sir. It’s your birthday, you’re not meant to be moving heavy furniture.” 

“Well, desperate measures, you know.” Hall winked at him again and smiled wickedly. 

Was Hall flirting with him? This, combined with the way the man had looked at him earlier in the day certainly pointed to that. Perhaps he was one of those men that liked slumming it, in bed. Liked to feel superior by coming to men below their station. But there was something about the way Hall looked at him. Like he knew him, or something. Like he knew him, in the biblical sense. And Hall looked familiar to him, as well. Like somehow he knew that beneath the layers of shirt and jacket and face, Maurice Hall had a smooth, hairless chest. And that he knew exactly where to touch Hall to drive him wild with desire. 

“Well, that’s the pianoforte moved, then.” Ianto said in a vain attempt to distract himself from thinking about Hall’s chest and the rest of it. 

“I guess I must tragically bid you goodnight then. Unless…” Hall said, leering at Ianto. “No, never mind, it’s when I get back… Anyway, good night. Thanks for your help with the shooting, today.” 

“Goodnight, sir.” Ianto said. 

********************************************

Ianto was just finishing his rounds. His conversation with Milly and shifting the pianoforte had set him back on his duties, and now it was raining and dark, but he still had parts of the grounds to walk. He sighed with annoyance as thunder cracked above. 

It would have been completely frustrating if he weren’t gifted with the sight of Hall in an undershirt leaning out of his window as Ianto walked by the house. The rain had started in earnest, and the thin white material clung to Hall’s chest. Ianto stepped to a tree so he wouldn’t be seen and watched the man. Hall was clearly enjoying himself as he got soaked. Even from that far away, Ianto could see the joy in his eyes. He imagined that they would probably sparkle. 

He wondered again how and why Clive Durham had passed this beautiful dish of a man up. The sight of him leaning out a window, too far away to see any real detail, had made Ianto quite hard. 

Eventually Hall went back inside and closed the window. Ianto became aware of how wet he was. He sighed and turned to go to the servants’ entrance. 

But Ianto couldn’t get Hall out of his mind. As he tried in vain to fall asleep he thought of Hall in a wet shirt. He imagined how the thin white fabric would cling to his chest, how his dark pink nipples would have pebbled in the cold rain and how they would look coated with the almost translucent material. But before he could take matters into his own hands, he drifted off to sleep.

His dreams were no less filled with the dashing Mr. Hall. But this Mr. Hall was different, somehow. He dreamt of him standing proudly, arms crossed against his chest, wearing a large blue coat that ruffled in the breeze, standing on a strange structure of translucent glass that towered in the sky. Mr. Hall stood there, looking down on everyone below. Then he dreamt of Mr. Hall holding him in his arms. Hall was naked but for a strange leather strap on his wrist. He dreamt of kissing Mr. Hall, it felt so real, so lifelike. When Ianto awoke in the morning he was cramped with desire. He craved release and all he could think of was Mr. Hall. But Simcox - had arrived, and there would be reprimands if Ianto stayed in bed and did what he sorely needed to do. 

Mr. Hall took his leave of Pendersleigh after breakfast that morning. Ianto did his best not stare as the man said his goodbyes. He nearly pushed Simcox out of the way, to put Mr. Hall’s valise on the carriage. Mr. Hall tried to tip him, but Ianto would have none of it. He couldn’t take money from this man. He didn’t want any sort of financial transaction to get in between them. He didn’t want Hall to think he was a gold digger. 

But Hall completely misunderstood Ianto’s gesture and joked with horrible Archie about how impudent Ianto was.

Ianto sighed in frustration as the carriage pulled away. 

**************************

Luckily the day passed quickly enough, because Ianto was tasked with fixing the roof. The work hurt his back, but it gave him something to focus on instead of Hall standing on a strange, tall building, his modern looking coat flapping in the breeze. 

Ianto finished the roof just before dinner, and as he climbed down the ladder he was surprised to see Mr. Hall back from London already. The desire that had been a low-level hum all day once again turned into a roar. It was all Ianto could do to not throw himself at Mr. Hall’s feet.

“Pardon me, sir. Um, will the gentleman be shooting tomorrow?” He said so that he wouldn’t say, “Sir, will you fuck me raw, right here up against this tree?” 

Hall looked startled for a second. His look clearly mirrored Ianto’s. He gulped and said something about the cricket match. 

Idiot! Ianto thought to himself. He quickly apologized for his error. Hall looked askance at him and murmured, “That’s alright.” 

Ianto was flustered, “Er, glad to see you down again so soon, Mr. Hall, sir.” He sputtered. 

Hall gave him a curious look but simply nodded and said, “That’s alright Ia…. I mean, Jones,” and swiftly walked away. 

Ianto felt at loose ends. He didn’t want to return to the servants’ quarters, just yet. So he headed for the boathouse. He wasn’t sure why, but the boathouse had always been a place that Ianto fancied. The calm, sheltered water and the gentle movement of the boat always soothed him. 

He began to bail out the boat and his thoughts once again drifted to Mr. Hall. The man had a strange out of timeliness about him. And a sadness that he hid from all but Ianto’s careful study of him. He looked as if he was missing something, something very valuable to him. And there had been a few times when Ianto could have sworn Hall looked mournfully at him, not with lust but with something much more tender, and therefore more dangerous. That, he concluded, was probably just wishful thinking. 

When Ianto dropped off his gun in the supply room Simcox was there. He was looking at something and muttering, as he saw Ianto, he quickly put the item in his pocket and sneered at Ianto.

“Finished the roof then? Can’t have the poshies getting all wet from one little hole.” 

Ianto just nodded and started cleaning his gun. 

“We’re to be busy again as Master Durham’s, ahem, friend is back.” The way he spat out ‘friend’ left no question as to what he was implying by the word. Ianto rolled his eyes and tried to change the subject.

“Can you ask the gentleman,” Ianto emphasized the word, “that is, Mr. Hall, if he requires anything of me. I have bailed out the boat in case any of the family want to come to the boathouse to cool off during the cricket tomorrow.” 

“Oh you’re very attentive to Mr. Hall.” Simcox said with contempt. 

“Doing my job, Simcox.” Ianto tried desperately to keep the annoyance out of his voice. “Just want to do it well, so they keep me. Don’t want to get sent home, nothing there but coal mines…” 

“Well, we couldn’t have your pretty face all mucked up with coal dust, could we.” 

There was no winning with Simcox. Ianto went back to cleaning his gun and hoped the older man would just go away. 

“Have you noticed anything weird about Mr. Hall?” Simcox asked with deceptive casualness. 

As if Ianto was going to imply anything scandalous about this gorgeous and mysterious man.

“Not really. He’s nice to everyone, including the staff. I guess that’s different.” Ianto said with what he hoped was credible indifference. 

“Well, you let me know if he pays you any,” Simcox paused for effect, “undue attention. I’ve heard rumours.” 

“Will do.” Ianto said. Didn’t Simcox have other duties to attend to? 

*******************

It seemed Ianto was destined to keep running into temptation, because that evening as he was finishing his rounds he ran into Mr. Hall again. 

“Good night, sir!” Ianto called to the man, who was wandering sadly through the grounds.

“Oh, Jones. Didn’t see you there. It is a good night.” Hall’s eyes twinkled again. 

He waited till Ianto caught up to him and then they both strolled at a leisurely pace. 

“They tell me you’re emigrating?” Hall asked with something Ianto couldn’t decipher in his voice.

“That’s the plan.” 

“Well, good luck to you.” 

“Thank you. I still haven’t wrapped my head around it.” 

“Was it the Argentine that they said?” 

“That’s right.” Ianto said, chuffed that Hall had retained that information. “There’s a little Welsh settlement just on the border with Chile in the Patagonia region. Seems an odd sort of thing, to go across the ocean to speak my own language, but I am looking forward to it.” 

“And what a beautiful language it is.” Hall commented. “Those vowels…” He looked dreamy, like he was thinking of something. Or someone.

“You ever been, sir?” 

“What, to Wales or the Argentine?” 

“Oh well, both? Or either, I guess?” 

“I… well I lived in Cardiff in a, I mean, for a time. Never been to the Argentine, though.” 

Ianto wanted to ask Hall more about why and when he had been in Cardiff, but he was well aware of asking someone above his station too many questions. So he said nothing and just enjoyed walking with Hall. There was something that felt so familiar about it. Like he had done this, many times. And there was something about Cardiff. Like he could imagine walking the city’s streets with this man. He could almost see standing at the harbour looking out onto the bay with him.

They had reached the house and there was no possible excuse to keep walking with Hall, especially not where the rest of the staff could see. 

“Good night then Mr. Hall,” Ianto said, with sadness. 

“Good night, Jones.” 

This time when Ianto entered the supply room, Simcox was quite clearly looking at a stopwatch. That was strange. He shoved it in his pocket when Ianto entered.

“An easy start, tomorrow.” Simcox grunted. “Only Mr. Hall’s pleasure to wait upon.” 

“Mr. Hall is a gentleman.” Ianto couldn’t stop himself from saying.

“If you say so.” Simcox sneered and walked his bicycle out of the room.

Ianto couldn’t bear the servants’ quarters, right then. He was feeling keyed up, and he didn’t want to toss and turn, thinking about Mr. Hall. 

He headed to the boathouse. The lapping of the water calmed him. And soon he floated off to sleep.

_ “If you’re interested, I’ve still got that stopwatch.”  _

_ “So?”  _

_ “Well, think about it. There’s lots of things you can do with a stopwatch.”  _

_ “Oh yeah! I can think of a few.”  _

_ “There’s quite a list.”  _

_ “I’ll send the others home early. See you in my office in, ten.”  _

_ “That’s ten minutes, and counting.”  _

Ianto woke up with a start. What a strange dream. He had been standing in an odd looking suit beside Mr. Hall and behind them was a heavy door. There was a familiarity. And what was he on about, with the stopwatch thing? His dreams had been so strange, since Mr. Hall arrived. 

Ianto was unsettled. But mostly he was turned on. There was a promise in the looks that passed between him and Hall, in the dream. He tried to shake it off as he locked up the boathouse and headed back to the house. 

That’s when he saw Hall, standing on the half roof near his room. He was wearing blue pyjamas. His mind flashed to his earlier dream of Hall standing on the strange building. Hall seemed right somehow, standing on buildings. 

But the dream was still in his head, as was the way Hall had so easily acquiesced to his invitation. And so something in Ianto saw Hall’s standing on the roof as an invitation. 

Hall went back inside his room and Ianto almost couldn’t stop himself as he crept stealthily to the ladder that he hadn’t yet taken away and slowly climbed it. 

When he reached the window, he could see Hall lying in the bed. Hall saw Ianto and sat up. He almost looked as if he had expected it. That was good because there was no way to stop now. If his attentions were unwanted he would be arrested anyway, so why not follow through on the chance that Hall was willing to back up the looks he had been giving Ianto with action. 

Hall grinned as Ianto crept towards him. 

“I know, sir,” Ianto said, “I know.” 

What else could he say really. It seemed strange to not say anything. 

“You do?” Hall sounded surprised. “Do you…? Are you…?” He said hopefully. 

Ianto had reached the bed and sat beside Hall. Hall looked at him with a question in his eyes, but no alarm at all. 

“About you and Mr. Durham. I know.” 

“Oh, right.” Hall looked disappointed. “That. I was… I hoped… Are you… Oh, what the hell, I don’t care. I miss you.” 

He grabbed Ianto by the lapels and pulled him in for a kiss. Hall’s mouth was so familiar. The desire that coursed through Ianto’s body was familiar. The way Hall sucked his lip and then slid his tongue into Ianto’s mouth felt like coming home again. 

“Take these clothes off, now!” Hall ordered, but it was desperation and not a command. Ianto began ripping off his clothes as Hall pulled off his top and then shimmied out of his pants. Just as Ianto had imagined, his chest was hairless and glimmered in the moonlight. 

Once they were both naked, Hall pulled Ianto to him again. He rolled them on the bed so he was on top of Ianto, his weight pushing him into the mattress. Both men were achingly hard. Hall began kissing Ianto all over, working his mouth down to Ianto’s neck and then his chest. 

As he sucked one of Ianto’s erect nipples into his mouth and teasingly bit it, Ianto cried out, “Jack!!” 

Hall froze. “What did you say?” 

Ianto was so embarrassed. Why the hell did he say that? He didn’t even know a Jack. What was happening? But Hall was looking at him, not with anger, but with hope. 

“What did you say? You said a name? Why?” 

“I… uh... It’s someone I know… uh… in the village. I’m sorry.” 

“Is that true? Are you telling me the truth?” Hall’s sky-blue eyes searched his face. 

“No… I don’t know why I said that. It’s like something else was controlling me.” 

Hall looked the saddest that Ianto had seen him. “It’s okay. It’s… we’ll fix this. I swear to you Ianto. I will fix this and you’ll be back… And I will never under-appreciate you again.” 

“Sir?” Ianto was confused. 

“I’m just babbling, Ianto. Let’s just have this. I need it. It’s been too long. So much searching.” 

Jack went back to kissing Ianto’s chest. Ianto’s confusion melted into need as Hall worked lower with his innovative tongue. And then Hall had taken Ianto in his mouth. Ianto cried out inarticulate words as Hall sucked him. He fisted the sheets and arched his back to get deeper. And then Ianto moaned as the orgasm crashed into him. 

************** 

Ianto woke up early that morning and Hall was spooning him. He breathed in the smell of the other man and felt his cock stiffen. How did Hall smell so good? He wanted to stay there forever, to be surrounded by this man and his scent. But there was so much to do, and he knew Simcox would be around soon. That was all he needed, for that horrible man to find him in the bed of Durham’s ex-lover. 

Behind him Hall was stirring. His hand that had been resting on the bed moved to stroke Ianto’s chest. 

“Good morning,” Hall said sleepily. Ianto snuggled into the embrace.

“Morning, sir.” 

Ianto turned around in Hall’s arms. The man’s sleepy blue eyes watched him intently. 

“You aren’t regretting this, are you?” He asked nervously. 

“Never could.” Hall said. He moved on top of Ianto and began kissing his chest again. He held Ianto’s arms against the mattress playfully. 

"Your accent..." Ianto said. "Why do you sound American?" 

Hall looked at him with confusion, "How did you…?" and then he grinned. "Oh, so clever, my clever Ianto… So smart of you to hear that. Um, you know, my father was American."

Just then the bells in the parish church rang out.

“Sir, the church has struck. You'll have to release me.” 

“Maurice. I’m Maurice. Or you can call me Jack again.” Maurice said with a wink. 

“Lots to do, have to get ready for the match.” Ianto said purposely ignoring Maurice’s reference to his blunder the night before. “The boat's done. Mr. London dived splack into the water lilies. They told me that all young gentlemen learn to dive. Well, I never learned to. It seems more natural-like not to let your head get under the water. I call that drowning before your day.” 

“Ianto…” Maurice said wistfully. 

Ianto raised a questioning eyebrow. 

“Did you ever dream you had a friend, someone to last your whole life?” 

Before he could stop or even understand the words, Ianto replied. “But what if you live too many lives?” 

“Ianto…?” 

“Sorry, I don’t know what that was. It was like I couldn’t control it. I don’t even know what I meant.” Ianto sputtered. 

“It’s okay Ianto. I don’t completely understand. But you’re right. Too many lives. I’ll never have someone to last all of them.” 

Ianto didn’t understand, but he felt how familiar Jack’s sadness was. And he felt a weight that felt too familiar, as well.

****************************

Jack sat in the waiting room. He looked around, quite impressed that in the weeks that they had been in this alternate timeline, Owen and Tosh had managed to set up a doctor’s office and actually acquire clients. He wondered what sort of ailments fictional characters had. 

“Uh, Maurice Hall?” Tosh said, looking rather fetching in an Edwardian nurse costume, “Dr. Harper will see you now.” 

Jack rose and followed Tosh into the examination room. 

“How did you get clients, Owen? Are those real people? Is this you telling me that you miss being a GP? Too many alien autopsies?” 

“Har, har, Jack. What the bloody hell else am I supposed to do whilst you’re off playing Upstairs Downstairs at the manor house? It’s not like there’s TV or pop music, here.” 

“I’m so sorry that that our mission to rescue a valuable teammate is depriving you of your daily Artic Monkeys fix.” Jack snarked. “Can we focus? Where is the Rift, and how do we get Ianto’s memory back, and then get ourselves back to Cardiff, 2008? Also, what did you do with the real fictional character?” 

Tosh was fiddling with something that looked like a steampunk Tamagotchi. “Hmm, haven’t located the RIft energy, but it has to be here, somewhere. We sent the “real” Maurice Hall off to France."

“Haven’t a bloody clue about Teaboy’s memory. I thought that was your job, Captain Sexypants.” 

Jack would have blushed if he had any shame. Images flickered through his mind of the night before. Ianto’s familiar body, the way he made Jack feel, the way it felt to be inside him. He’d almost gotten there, Ianto kept saying things that showed the real Ianto was in there but something was missing. Also, was it cheating if your boyfriend thought he was an under-gamekeeper in a film adaptation of an Edwardian novel? 

“How are things progressing?” Tosh asked. “Are things sticking to the narrative of the film? Any diversions?” 

Jack sighed. “I don’t know. Merchant Ivory films are boring. I always just fast forward to the naked bits.” 

Tosh and Owen both rolled their eyes. 

“It would seem the only person who has watched this movie enough times to remember what happens thinks he’s an Edwardian gamekeeper.” Tosh sighed. 

“But it’s weird, sometimes when I am talking to Ianto, I just say stuff. I don’t understand it, it comes out. I think it is dialogue from the film.” 

“Hmm,” Tosh said as she scanned him with her gadget, “We’re lucky that’s happening. Whoever or whatever did this to Ianto is probably close by to monitor him for signs of the real Ianto. But your perception filter seems to be holding steady so hopefully your cover isn’t blown.” 

“Well that’s a relief. But, oh! He can see and hear the real me! He asked me why I had an American accent. My Ianto is so smart!" 

Tosh smiled at Jack. "He is…"

Jack sighed wistfully.

“Can we focus here and not just wax rhapsodic about Tea Boy?” 

"Well, why did you call me away from the cricket game if you don’t have any news? Is everything okay back in 2008? Is Gwen holding down the fort okay? Like really, couldn't this have waited till *after* the cricket??” Jack asked with annoyance. 

“Sorry what was that about an important mission to rescue a valuable teammate???” Owen snarked. 

“But you don’t understand,” Jack whined, “Ianto in cricket whites? It was like an old timey white party. You have no idea how huge of a boner seeing Ianto in that sexy cricket uniform gives me."

“Eww,” Owen rolled his eyes. “Keep that to yourself, Mr. Hall.”

Tosh laughed, “Jack please stop antagonizing Owen.” 

“Are you making any progress with our teammate?” Owen asked. 

This time, Jack did blush. Tosh giggled. Owen sighed with annoyance. 

“Can’t keep it in your pants, even on a mission.” 

“What?! It’s what happens in the movie! That part I do remember. A young Rupert Graves without a shirt…. Besides, he came to me.” 

“Came on you, more like.” Owen quipped. 

“Is it ‘on’, if it was in my mouth?” Jack asked with faux innocence.

Owen made a face and Jack cackled.

“Hi, uh, guys. Can you please stop the bickering? I know it seems all fun for you both to run around Edwardian England but I really miss my civil rights.” Tosh interrupted. “I’d really like to find a solution.” 

“Sorry!” both men said in unison. 

***************************** 

Jack was at work. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was meant to do. By the look of it, he was some sort of stock broker. He fiddled with things and looked at the incomprehensible ticker tape and hoped something would happen. He had gotten a note from Ianto, asking him to come to the boathouse at Pendersleigh but a vague memory of the film made him stay in London. He remembered that hotel room scene very well (it was one of the naked bits) and was sure it was in London. 

He didn’t have to wait long before he sensed even before he saw the figure of his favourite Welshman in a beautiful blue suit enter the office. The rustic look had been fun too, but he had missed seeing Ianto in a suit. 

He ran down to the lobby where Ianto was looking around like he’d never seen an office. 

“Maurice!” Ianto said when he saw him. 

“What? Uh, what brings you to London Ia.. Jones?” Jack remembered that Maurice would have been scared to see Scudder in London, so he tried to hide his joy at seeing Ianto.

“My, um, brother and I have, um, some business here. You ought to know what it is.” Ianto looked at him meaningfully. 

Jack looked to the other men in the office. 

“Uh, I just need to speak to Jones here. Some issue with that place with the orphans that I volunteer at, uh. Five minutes?” Jack said. 

“Jones, is it?” Ianto stepped closer to him. “‘Ianto, you're a dear fellow,’ you said. You’re ashamed to be seen with me, aren’t you?” Ianto’s voice was too loud, people around him could hear. “Hmm? You're not glad anyway. Don't say you are.”

“You know I’m glad.” Jack said, moving closer still. He cursed early 20th century morals as he stared at Ianto’s lips, he wanted to kiss him so badly. 

Ianto stepped in, even further. “Play along, Jack.” He whispered. “They could be watching.” Then he stepped back and said loudly enough to be heard by those around, “Then why didn't you come to the boathouse? I waited two nights. I got no sleep, waiting.” 

“But I…” Jack sputtered. Did Ianto really have his memory back? 

“I know something.” Ianto said ominously.

“Of course!” Jack grinned. “You know everything.” 

He could see Ianto repressing an eyeroll. 

“Er, uh, I'm sure you could tell me a good many things, Ianto.”

“I know about you and Mr. Durham.” 

Jack tried to look horrified. Ianto was so good at playing this role, it was hard not to smile at him. It was even harder not to throw him against a wall and have his way with him. A threatening Ianto was dead sexy. 

“This is your office, is it? What do you do here?” Ianto said looking around. 

“Alright, let’s go to the street and er the British Museum? Or something?” He vaguely remembered a scene where they were looking at carvings. 

Ianto followed him out to the street. 

“What’s going on?” Jack asked when they had gotten a safe distance from the office. 

“I don’t really know.” Ianto said quietly. “I was watching the movie. You know, the one you were supposed to meet me at the Electro for? And, well rough week at work and all that, I fell asleep.”

“I don’t blame you. This is what comes of going to see boring costume dramas in the theatre.” Jack said.

Ianto rolled his eyes.

Ianto continued, “and all of a sudden I was a poor Welsh kid who ended up as an under-gamekeeper for a rich asshole.” 

“I mean, a rich asshole that looks like Hugh Grant?” Jack reminded him. 

“Ugh, he’s not my type. Anyway, it was weird. I had this whole back story, and I really thought I was the character.” 

“How did you get your memory back?” 

“We can’t talk here. Besides, we have to go to the Museum. I have no idea who’s watching, and we have to make them think we’re still stuck in the world of the movie. Just follow my lead when the guy who thinks he was your teacher at school comes up to you…” 

“Okay, but then we get to go to the hotel, right?” Jack said hopefully.

“Ugh, Jack, you really did just fast-forward to all the sex bits, didn’t you?” 

Jack smiled sheepishly.

*******************************************

Jack and Ianto stepped into the small hotel room. Jack scanned the room with his Vortex Manipulator. 

“Clear.” Jack said as he pulled Ianto to him. He kissed him and said, “Fuck, I missed you. When you didn’t come back from the movie…” 

“You thought I left your ass? You know I would never do that to Torchwood.” Ianto said wryly. 

“I know Ianto. I was worried. Thought you’d been taken by aliens or by the Rift? I didn’t know, but I was frantic. I thought I would never see you again. Or worse. You know what the Rift does to people. Ianto, the thought of you as one of those broken patients at Flat Holm…"

Jack screwed his eyes shut as if to try to squeeze the mental image from his head.

"And then it took weeks to find you, to wait for another Rift opening, to find Pendersleigh. That gave me a lot of time to think. Ianto, I know I took you for granted. I’m sorry. You have to believe me. I will make it up to you. I won’t stand you up anymore. I am going to be good to you.” 

“It’s okay Jack. How did you figure out what happened?” 

“We checked the security footage and there were images of you arriving, but not leaving. So Tosh eventually traced a Rift opening and we came through.” 

“Tosh is here too?” 

“And Owen. Gwen is keeping an eye on things back in Cardiff. But we don’t know how to get back.” 

“I have an idea for that, but I need more time. There’s something else I need to do, here.” 

Jack looked at him. It felt so good to see the light in Ianto’s eyes as he puzzled through a problem. The way he took things on with the confidence that, whatever it was, he could solve it. Jack knew in that moment that he truly loved Ianto. Not that he would tell him right now, that was too scary, too permanent. But he knew that this clever Welshman had worked his way into Jack’s heart. 

“There’s something *I* need to do, right here and right now.” Jack said wickedly as he played with Ianto’s tie. 

Ianto’s answering smile was equally devilish. “Well, it does happen in the movie, so…” His nimble fingers began to undo Jack’s buttons. 

“You have no idea, Jack.” Ianto said as he opened Jack’s shirt and began to caress his chest. “Simple country boy Ianto was so hot for Mr. Hall. Constant state of arousal. And I kept dreaming of you...” 

“I was worried what you would think of us… Well, you know? You didn’t know you were you, so was it cheating?” 

Ianto looked at him thoughtfully. “Jack, we're not monogamous. At least I got laid too. I was going to explode. But you’ve never had any qualms about sleeping with whoever, before.” 

“Ianto, I can’t stress this enough,” Jack gently explored Ianto’s face with his fingers, “your disappearance really made me re-examine things. I think I want to be monogamous now. When you were missing… I didn’t want anyone else. I missed you so badly. Is that… Would you be okay with us being exclusive?”

“Jack, of course.” Ianto said with a smile. “Work is so busy. I just don’t have time for another boyfriend.” 

Jack frowned. Ianto laughed. 

“And, of course, I just couldn’t bear to be with anyone else. But I didn’t want to stifle you.” 

Jack leaned in and kissed Ianto again. When they broke the kiss, there was a flurry of clothes being thrown off and stepped out of until they both fell, naked, onto the bed. 

Afterwards, as both men lay panting and trying to catch their breath, Jack rolled to his side and studied Ianto. 

“So how did you get your memory back?” 

“Can’t tell you. It’s part of what I still need to do.” 

“But you can stay tonight, right? That’s part of the movie?” Jack felt his voice shake a bit.

Ianto looked at him with incredible affection. He knew that his heart was in good hands. He knew that Ianto’s heart had been his long before he’d bumbled to that realization about his feelings for Ianto. 

“Yes Jack. I can stay. I don’t know for how long, but I can stay. Believe me, if I could stay forever, I would.” 

Jack pulled Ianto into his arms and held him tightly. He knew Ianto wasn’t just talking about that night. 

******************************** 

“Jack, I have to go. If I miss my train, everyone will be passing remarks.” Jack had attached himself to Ianto’s back like a human-shaped Lamprey Eel and wasn’t letting go. 

“But it’s dangerous. Can we come with you?” He nuzzled Ianto’s ear and stroked his chest.

“No, Jack, I need to do this by myself. I can’t explain why. Besides, you have to be at the boat to meet my ‘family’.” 

“Huh?” Jack said.

Ianto turned in Jack’s arms. “In the movie, Maurice asks Scudder to stay - to not emigrate to the Argentine - and run away with him. Scudder refuses, because he says it wouldn’t work. So Maurice is all sad. Then he goes to the ship that Scudder is to sail on, and Scudder doesn’t show up. He’s missed the boat. So then Maurice knows that Scudder has chosen to stay with him. To take a chance in a thousand. And Maurice knows that Scudder will be at the boathouse at Pendersleigh because he’s been banging on about it for like the entire length of his scenes in the movie.” 

“This sounds like a great film!” 

Ianto rolled his eyes and continued. “So anyway, he shows up at Pendersleigh and tells Durham he can suck it, and then he goes to the boathouse and Scudder has fallen asleep and he’s all dopey and adorable when he wakes up. And then they kiss. And Scudder is all like ‘It’s finished. Now we shan’t never be parted.’ It’s quite romantic. Would have been a great date movie.” 

Jack nuzzled Ianto’s neck. “We’ll watch it together someday soon. You have the Criterion Edition on DVD.” 

“Well we won’t if you don’t unhand me so I can go save the day, Jack.” 

“Fine!” Jack let Ianto go after kissing him thoroughly. 

“You’ll remember that, at any rate.” Jack said.

“Hey! That’s my line in the movie.” Ianto laughed. He paused at the door. “And don’t forget! Saturday in South Hampton! You have to go to the ship, to see me off!” 

************************************** 

Ianto took a deep breath as he stepped off of the carriage and onto the lane at Pendersleigh. He had hated it before when he thought he belonged there. Now, especially when a newly affectionate Jack was in London, he despised it. But if he could pull this off, then…. Well, if he could pull it off. That was not a given. 

“And where were you on yesterday?” Simcox sneered as Ianto entered the supply room. 

“Went to see my aunt in London. She wanted to give me some things for my trip.” Ianto mumbled. 

Simcox sniffed. But then, Alec wouldn’t have told Simcox the truth about where he was going either, so hopefully his cover wasn’t blown.

Ianto pushed past him and went out to do his rounds. The house and grounds were pretty enough, if you liked that sort of thing. But Ianto missed Cardiff. He missed the hustle and bustle. He missed the adventure of chasing after Weevils. He missed how after he and Jack would bring in the captured Weevil and deposit them in the holding cells, they would look at each other and see that unused energy in each other’s eyes. They’d both recognize the need for more excitement. And they would race up to Jack’s office, or the corner of the Archives that Ianto had moved the camera’s gaze away from. He missed Jack. 

But if this worked…. 

The few days till the ship was to set sail dragged on. Ianto kept his head down and tried to avoid the other staff and the Durhams until finally Saturday arrived.

He was heading back to the house to find Simcox when he saw the man himself. He looked enraged. Ianto had planned to casually bump into him and pick his pocket but apparently Simcox had rather more violent plans. He grabbed Ianto by the neck and pushed him against a tree. Well, that was a distraction, of a sort. 

“What are you playing at?” Simcox growled. His accent was different, less northern. 

“Sir?” Ianto croaked. 

“Why wasn’t Harkness waiting for you at the ship today?” 

Goddamnit Jack. So much for a new, more reliable Jack. How could he forget? Unless… It must have been a trap, Jack, or maybe Tosh, would have figured that out. Clearly Simcox, or whoever he was, could see through the perception filter just like Ianto could. So he would have known all along that that Jack had replaced Maurice. But he hid that fact so that Ianto would tell Jack to play the part of Maurice going to see Scudder off only to find him not on the boat. Simcox probably sent someone to delay Jack and the others so they couldn’t return through the Rift.” 

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Oh you know. You know about the missing memories from my stopwatch.” 

“Stopwatch? What stopwatch? You don’t have a stopwatch.” Ianto rebutted. 

Simcox gasped and fumbled around in his pockets, looking for the object. Ianto took full advantage and punched him as hard as he could in the head. SImcox fell to the ground and as he hit the ground, he turned into a tall gaunt man with a ridiculous Salvador Dali mustache. It couldn’t have been a perception filter because Ianto could see through those. It must have been some enchantment that disguised the man.

Ianto was immediately on him, trapping his arms with his knees and sitting on his chest. 

“How did you do this?” Ianto asked calmly, his voice ice. 

“Why should I tell you?” 

“Because I can smash this stopwatch, rip it apart. Then where will you be? You don’t belong here, any more than I do.” Ianto guessed. 

“It’s breath.” The man was clearly terrified. “You fell asleep in the movie and I I hypnotized you to walk into the Rift just in the screen and step into this reality. Then I took your memories and your breath and put in those of the servant.” 

“So your life force? It can be anywhere, yeah? You can manifest, regardless?” 

“Here, I can. But in the real world, I need a medium. Something to pour the life force, the breath into - a body, celluloid - it has to be something. Then you don’t need to hold the essence in the stopwatch, anymore.” 

“Are you in the real world?” 

The man said nothing. Ianto mimed like he was going to open the back of the stopwatch. 

“Not yet!! And I didn’t get far. You… this was all your fault. I thought I could keep you here. Keep my Pearl, all my friends, keep them safe. Keep them safe to gather our audience and steal their breath. So we could finally live again. Find bodies, and live.” 

What was he on about?” 

“I can’t let you do that, whatever you’re trying to do.” Ianto wound up again and punched the man as hard as he could. 

Ianto took off for the boathouse. He knew the man would only need a moment to regroup. And Ianto had to wait for the rest of the Torchwood team to show up. He hoped this man didn’t have a key and that he didn’t have some way of getting through the wall. 

As he rounded the corner towards the boathouse he could have cried from joy. Standing by the door were Jack, Tosh, and Owen. They had realized waiting for the ship to sail was a trap and had come to Pendersleigh, immediately.

“We need to get in there!” Ianto yelled. “I have the key.” 

He ran up and unlocked the door. 

“I finally traced the RIft to here.” Tosh explained. 

They ran into the boathouse and there, glimmering in the inner room, was the Rift. 

“It’s finished.” Ianto said as they all ran into the Rift.

*****************************

“So how did you figure out your memories were in the stopwatch?” Jack asked as he leaned against the wall of the Medbay. Ianto had never been as relieved to see the sterile white tile in his life. Owen buzzed around running tests on Ianto. 

“Would you believe a dream?” Ianto said and blushed.

“A dream?” 

“Well, it was more of a memory. About a conversation about a stopwatch…” Ianto blushed even harder.

“OOOOHHH!” Jack said, getting it and leering.

“I do not even want to know.” Owen grumped. 

“I had seen Simcox with a stopwatch, but he hid it every time he saw me. So I took a guess that something valuable was in it. I pinched it when he wasn’t looking and opened it up. And voila, I was myself again. But I put it back in his pocket so he wouldn’t get suspicious.” 

“But why not leave, then? You had your memories back.” Tosh asked, she sat with Gwen on the steps leading to the Medbay. 

“Yes, but why stop there? I had a suspicion. I read in the archives about a watch that Time Lords have that can store their essence. I thought maybe this would work the same way. Maybe not, but it was worth a try.” 

“Clever, but risky. He could have hurt you, Ianto.” Jack looked very concerned.

“But he didn’t. Anyway, why didn’t you go to the ship? How did you figure it was a trap?” 

“It felt weird. I didn’t like leaving you so exposed, so isolated when you had something so important to do. It seemed a bit too convenient for me to be in a specific place, you know?” Jack explained. 

“I’m glad you didn’t go.” Ianto shuddered at the thought of Jack being trapped back there. 

“Well, it all worked out in the end.” 

“Right, Gwen, can you pull up that Police Sketch Artist software you have? I need to draw his face. He implied that we had thwarted his plans in his past and our future. We need to know what he looks like, so we can stop him immediately when he strikes again. And we need to put up Rift monitors in the Electro. I think he’s going to try to get into our world through the movie screen.” 

Ianto suddenly remembered. 

“And this! I need all of you to breathe into this stopwatch. You’ll thank me later.”

*********************************** 

Several Weeks Later

Tosh was sobbing. Martha, Gwen and Ianto were grim faced. Jack looked destroyed. They carried Owen’s body to the Medbay.. 

“Please let this work!” Tosh sobbed.

Ianto moved to the table and pulled the stopwatch from his pocket. He held it up to Owen’s still face and opened the back. A whiff of smoke went from the watch to Owen’s mouth. Owen’s life force returned to his body.

“Ugggghhhhh!” Owen sat up with a yell. He was breathing heavily. His shirt hung open revealing a completely healed chest. There was no sign of the bullet wound that had killed him.

Everyone looked at each other in wonder.

“Holy fuck! It actually worked.” Owen said, breaking the silence. “My breath in Tea Boy’s magic stopwatch actually brought me back!” 

Martha went about scanning Owen. “Yes, it did. He’s completely alive. Completely functioning. This is incredible!” 

“This means…” 

“Yes, all of us!” Ianto answered.

Everyone cheered. Jack grabbed Ianto and pulled him into an embrace. 

“My clever, clever Ianto,” he sobbed. 

Ianto gripped Jack back and nestled into his neck. He lifted his head and said into Jack’s ear, “Now we shan’t never be parted.” 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I would love to hear what you thought. I have a sneaking suspicion that this will only really appeal to the small number of folks in the intersection on the Venn Diagram of people obsessed with Torchwood and the 1987 film Maurice. (which is also possibly just me??) Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!


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